Consequences
by Angelone2
Summary: This is the third story in this saga of the Cartwrights. Adam made choices when he went to college against Little Joe's wishes. Eight years later will the family be able to survive the consequences of his choices?


Consequences

By PG 13 for some violence

_Adam made choices when he left for college. Now eight years later, there is an empty spot in the hearts of Ben, Hoss and most especially Little Joe. What will the final consequences of Adam's choices be and how will those consequences affect Little Joe and the Cartwright's? _

"Joseph!" Ben Cartwright's voice yelled. Joe Cartwright shrunk below his normal height at the sound of his father's voice. Late again, he thought. How come he had dallied on the way home? He knew Ben hated him to be late. Joe couldn't help it. Today was one of the first beautiful spring days there had been this year. He couldn't help going for a ride on the way home. Unfortunately it made him late and his father was angry.

"Hi, Pa," Joe greeted brushing down his pinto. Joe prized the animal. Ben came into the barn tired and angry.

"Joe, where have you been? Hoss had to do your chores and his again. Don't you know he's been busy enough lately without taking on any more work?"

"Yeah, sure, Pa. I know. It's just…well Cochise and I wanted to well, er…I dunno. We just got waylaid I guess."

"Waylaid? Joe, I thought you were becoming more responsible. At your age, Adam and Hoss were doing a great deal more. Why can't I trust you?"

"I dunno, Pa," Joe hedged. "I'm sorry."

"Sorry doesn't cut it, Joe. Not this time. You're restricted to the yard and the house except for your chores for the next week. No riding unless it's to school and back. One more time late and we'll have a discussion in the barn that won't be this congenial. Do you understand me?"

"Yes, Sir," Joe mumbled. Ben returned to the house. Joe finished caring for Cochise. He always felt bad after his father's scoldings. Why couldn't he live up to Adam and Hoss? He never could, and since Adam was gone, well he really couldn't live up to the man, a man he could barely remember. It wasn't fair, and still he missed Adam, a lot, just like he missed his mother. At fourteen he had lost more in his young life than was really fair that was true. Making his way from the barn to the house, he vowed to try harder, not just for himself but for Adam too.

That evening when Joe was in bed, Hoss checked on his little brother before going to bed. A half hour later the young man wasn't surprised to hear his father knock on his bedroom door.

"Come on in, Pa," he called out. "I aint asleep yet." Ben opened the door.

"Hoss, mind if we have a talk for a minute?"

"Sure, Pa, why so serious?" Ben gave a wan smile. Shutting the bedroom door behind him, he sat on the massive bed he had ordered most especially for his son when it became clear Hoss was going to be quite a large man, even larger than Ben himself. Hoss was in his nightshirt, his blankets drawn up over him. Though spring was in the air, the Nevada nights were still cold.

"I wanted to tell you I have to go to San Francisco next week. I was wondering if you thought you could handle Joe."

"Aw, he's okay, Pa."

"Hoss, you let him get away with too much," Ben told him. "He needs a little more discipline."

"Shucks, Pa, I aint that great on discipline, and specially not with Joe. I guess I aint Adam." Ben sighed.

"Hoss, you don't have to be Adam," he assured his second son. "Adam was good with teaching Joe, and helping me raise you boys, but Joe's your friend as well as your brother. Each of you boys has a special relationship with each other. That's all I can ask for."

"Ceptin Joe doesn't listen always, I know, Pa. Guess I wish Adam was here to take charge."

"I know, Son," Ben concurred. "Hoss, I'm proud of you. You took over a lot of the work Adam used to do and your own from the day you finished school. I couldn't run this ranch without you. Nor would I want to. The ranch is for you and Joe someday."

"I know, Pa. I know whatcha mean." Ben smiled. He patted Hoss' shoulder as he stood.

"Well, maybe Joe is just going through a stage."

"Pa, ya know Adam's birthday is coming up. I been thinking about it. It's gonna be four years this spring since he's gone. I was wonderin if Joe was thinking about that too?" Ben sat down again. For a few minutes, a range of emotions cross his face until he spoke in awe and grief.

"Four years," he said softly. "Hard to believe it's been that long. Sometimes I still expect him to come walking through the front door."

"I know, Pa. Me too. Ya know, Joe looks up ta me and I know that." Hoss clutched his hands together as he went on. "I looked up ta Adam somethin fierce. He was always there. If I don't think about the truth I can believe he's still in college."

"We never did have a service," Ben acceded. "Maybe we should."

"I dunno, Pa. I just know losing Adam…well aint never of us been the same since, and Joe was just a little fella."

"True. We'll talk about it when I come back. Thank-you, Hoss. You're a good man."

"Aw shucks, Pa," Hoss answered with a grin. Ben returned his son's grin, leaving the young man to get some much needed sleep. Hoss laid down remembering the days when Adam was home. He thought of Joe worrying that Adam would never come home and then he hadn't. Joe was different from him and Adam. He was curious, energetic, and sensitive. Hoss didn't know how to figure Joe out. He just hoped Joe would grow up a little. Pa's patience was wearing thin. In some ways, so was Hoss'.

Over the next week, Joe did seem to improve. He was home every day after school. His chores were completed and he was his normal cheerful self until Ben told him he had to go to San Francisco.

"Pa! Ya said ya didn't have to go away from the ranch probably till the summer," Joe objected standing up at the dinner table.

"Sit down, Joe," Ben ordered. Ben's eyes snapped at his son. Joe sat.

"It's not fair. Why can't I go with you?"

"Because you have school, and Hoss needs your help with the chores."

"Yeah, Shortshanks. Besides we can have fun doing chores together."

"You'll be out working all the time," Joe sulked. "I hate it when Pa leaves."

"Well it can't be helped, Joe. You know I have to travel for the contracts we set up. If I didn't do this, the ranch wouldn't be as prosperous as it is."

"So what?" Joe cried. "So what if we don't sell timber. The ranch is big enough. Why do we need more money? Why? It doesn't do this family any good does it? It won't bring Adam back will it or my ma or Hoss' or Adam's. I don't get it, Pa. What's so important about making the ranch prosper so much?" Ben was stunned by Joe's outburst. Joe threw down his napkin and ran upstairs. Hoss looked to his father.

"Pa?" Ben shook his head.

"I don't know, Hoss. I just don't know." Ben Cartwright was at a complete loss, something Hoss had seldom seen in his father before. Ben was strong, almost always there for his sons. This time…he couldn't answer Joe's questions. Hoss didn't like it. He didn't like it one bit…

The day before Ben went to San Francisco, Joe was still distant with his father. Ben tried to talk to Joe, but the boy wouldn't listen. He sulked staring into the fireplace, watching the glow of the flames rather than listen to his father. Ben's hand on Joe's shoulder was not appreciated. The father retired to bed to get an early start in the morning though he probably wouldn't sleep much for worrying about Joe. Joe leaned against the stone fireplace angry and sullen.

"Ya know, Joe, I almost wish ya would go with Pa," Hoss commented.

"Yeah, why?"

"Cause at least I don't have to look at yer grumpy face. I hate ta say it, but I'm a going to. I'm ashamed a ya, Joe."

"Ashamed of me? What'd I do?"

"Pa's been through a lot, Joe, Ya know that. He's lost a lot, all our ma's and Adam. And now ya gotta sulk just cause he won't take ya with him. Did ya ever think he might want to ya ta stay fer yer own good…and mine." Hoss put away the checkers and the board he was using, leaving his brother open mouthed. Hoss had never really talked to the boy that way. Looking into the flames, Joe could see the fire and the flames that he believed orphaned him when he was six. A man with a grudge against Ben started a fire at the hotel the family was staying at in San Francisco and kidnapped Joe, letting Joe believe Ben, Adam and Hoss were killed in the fire. Joe could never forget how devastated he felt, and how alone. Thinking of how he felt when the letter came from Boston informing them of Adam's death from cholera was even more difficult. Hitting his hand on the wall lightly, he walked up stairs. His knock on Ben's bedroom door was soft.

"Come in," his father called out. Joe opened the door. Standing in the doorway, he saw that his father was sitting by the window, fully dressed, looking outside. Ben seemed surprised to see his son.

"Joe?"

"I, er…ah came to say good night."

"You get a good night's sleep, Son." Joe took a few more tentative steps into the room. He looked down for a minute as Ben approached him. When the green eyes looked up, they locked on to the tender caring ones of a father who cherished him.

"I'm sorry, Pa. I didn't mean to give you a hard time. Sometimes I just feel like I'm not going anywhere, and I'm always being left behind." Ben offered a smile.

"Joe, you've felt left behind since the day you were born," he chuckled. "Always trying to keep up with your brothers."

"Yeah. It's like I can't help it, Pa."

"Joe, there a time for everything. You'll grow up fast enough. You're only fourteen. There's plenty of time." Joe nodded. He had heard those words before.

"Yeah, I know that, too, Pa."

"All I'm asking, Joe is for you to work on taking some responsibility and listen to Hoss. When you're his age…"

"When I'm his age you'll still think I'm a kid," Joe reminded him. Joe tried to tone down the edge on his voice. Thankfully Ben didn't argue.

"Well I can't deny that. I still think of Adam as my baby," Ben replied automatically. For a second the air was tight between the two. Joe felt the tears in his eyes. They never spoke of Adam, maybe because it still hurt so much. Joe's face crumbled.

"I'm sorry, Pa," was all he could say. Ben enfolded his son in his arms. As the older man rubbed his back, Joe felt the love and warmth that emanated from his father. He leaned his head against Ben's shoulder.

"I'll try, Pa. I'll do the best I can."

"I know, Joe." Joe meant what he said. He planned to continue to work harder, to let his father know he could be responsible. Unfortunately good intentions didn't always work out the way Joe Cartwright wanted, and in the days to come, fate would change his life far beyond his control.

hr

Ben was in San Francisco longer than he anticipated. Joe and Hoss worked together with the men and the ranch foreman to make sure the work that needed to be completed was done. Hoss was proud to see that his little brother was working like a man and relieved for the help. He even let Joe stay home from school for a few days to help out. He really did need him and if Joe didn't tell Hoss wouldn't. When the telegram came that Ben was coming home, Joe went back to school and Hoss breathed a sigh of relief.

Riding to school the day before his father was due home, Joe was feeling pretty confident. He still hated going to school. One thing that motivated him while his father was gone was the hope that if he showed he could help out at the ranch, Ben would let him leave school early. He wasn't a scholar like Adam. Neither was Hoss, he snickered to himself. However, Hoss was plenty smart, sometimes smarter than Joe even if he did say so himself.

"What do ya think, Cooch? Think Pa will let me finish school this spring? Then I can stay at home and try to make up to Pa for Adam." Joe's thought was so natural, he didn't even consciously acknowledge how it affected him. He shivered though as a cool breeze made him pull his coat closer. There were clouds in the sky with a threat of rain. What was the saying, Joe thought, April showers brought May flowers? Well they did need the rain. Joe slowed from a trot to a walk as he saw riders heading towards him. He only had time to observe the two men before they caught up with him. The two men perhaps in their thirties wearing typical ranch hand attire seemed friendly enough as they approached the boy.

"Hey there, Kid," one of the men said. "We're looking for a place called the Ponderosa. Ya know it?" Joe nodded.

"Sure, this road leads right to it. I'm Joe Cartwright and my pa owns the Ponderosa."

"Is that right?" The second man asked whipping out a gun, aiming it squarely at Joe's chest. The boy swallowed knowing he was suddenly in danger.

"What do you want?" he demanded. "If ya hurt me, my pa will…"

"Shut up, Kid. Mike take him," the second man ordered. Joe moved instinctively kicking Cochise with his feet and screaming like a banshee to make as much noise as he could. Cochise unfortunately was stopped by Mike's horse who blocked his way. Cochise reared. Joe held his seat but when he came down, he felt something hit his head throwing him off the horse. Stunned by the gun hitting him, and his body hitting the ground he was dimly away of the men yelling at him.

"Stupid brat. Ya had ta do this the hard way." Joe felt his body being turned over, his hands and feet tied, a gag being stuffed into his mouth.

"Ya pull a stunt like that again and I'll kill ya." Joe wanted to scream when he was lifted up on a horse, his body slung over the horse like a sack of grain and then a blanket fell over him. It was dark and frightening. Pa! Pa! Hoss! His mind as he became more and more aware sorted out that he had no idea where he was going or what was happening. He couldn't move, couldn't talk and could barely breathe for the gag in his mouth.

"Pa, I'm sorry, Pa," Joe kept saying to himself, knowing that no matter what happened, his father's world, as well as his own was being turned upside down again.

They rode, the two men and their captive for what seemed to be forever. The men didn't talk much as far as Joe could hear. In some ways he was too miserable to really think. He kept his eyes closed because he got dizzy watching the ground pass him by as they trotted for miles without stopping. When they finally came to a halt, Joe was dragged off the horse and thrown to the ground where he hit the dust with a thud that took his breath away again. Before he could collect himself, he was blindfolded, the gag removed from his mouth. He found himself sitting up against a tree.

"Kid, you still look like ya want ta defy me. Is that idea still on yer mind," the man asked. Joe remained silent.

"I asked ya a question. Either ya answer me or you'll be sorry."

"Go to hell," Joe blurted, his mouth dry, his heart racing. For his effort, he was slapped hard across the face.

"Mike, this kid reminds me of his brother. I reckon we got the right kid. Aint got no manners no how." Joe's attention was caught at the man's words.

"Who are you?" he hazarded.

"You could ask your brother," the man taunted.

"Hoss? Why?"

"Hoss? That big guy we saw in town the other day. Nah not him," Mike said. "Adam." Joe felt as though he'd been kicked in the stomach. Adam? Adam was dead, dead in a cholera epidemic that ripped through Boston just a few weeks after his graduation from college. What did these men know about Adam?

"Ya don't get it do ya, Kid? Well ya will soon. Here's some water. Drink it cause ya won't git any for a while." Joe felt the tin cup lifted to his lips. It was cold. Joe drank eagerly. Too fast the water was taken away. He was picked up and thrown over the horse again.

"We have a ways to go, Kid. It won't be comfortable, but then that's as it should be." Mike said. Joe tried to struggle, but there was nothing he could do. Miserably, he laid still, trying hard not to vomit at the tortuous position and to be as brave as he could for his father's sake, and for his.

II

The stagecoach carrying Ben Cartwright rolled into town an hour late due to a steady downpour. He was eager to get home to his sons. When he got of the coach, he was surprised and instantly concerned to see Sheriff Roy Coffee and Hoss waiting for him. Not seeing Joe, even though it was the middle of the day and logically he should be at school, Ben knew…knew in his sinking heart that suddenly weighed a ton that it was Joe who was in trouble. Running up to the covered porch of the hotel, Ben greeted Hoss with fear.

"Pa!" Hoss cried with evident relief. The big bear of a man enveloped his father in a hug, a hug that spoke volumes. When Hoss stepped back, he wiped away a tear. Ben worked hard to control his emotions.

"Hoss? What's happened? Where's Joe?"

"Pa, I don't know where he is. He's left for school yesterday and we caint find him. We done looked from town to the ranch and all we found was Cochise." Ben swallowed the urge to grab Hoss and ask him how his brother could go missing. He had to remind himself, that if something happened to Joe, it wasn't Hoss' fault. Joe rode every day to school and back on his own. He was away from home at least ten hours a day. In a very few minutes Roy and Hoss informed Ben of Joe's disappearance the day before. Hoss wasn't even aware the boy was missing until he failed to show up after school. A ride into town found Cochise chomping on some grass halfway to town. Rain during the day washed away any hope of tracking Joe. They had no idea where Joe was. Only one fact stood out. Joe would not have left Cochise willingly.

"Roy, there hasn't been a ransom note, no strangers in town, any other clues?" Ben asked trying to keep his knees from giving out on him. Roy spoke as he shook his head.

"Nothing, Ben, nothing at all. The rain isn't helping, Ben. We have no idea which direction Joe was taken in or if he went himself."

"He wouldn't go of by his self!" Hoss cried in anger. "I tole ya that."

"Hoss is right, Roy. Joe wouldn't just leave. He had no reason to."

"I have to think of every possibility, Ben."

"I know that," Ben ground out. "What are we doing?" It took everything the father had in him to ask logical questions. He wanted to get on a horse and ride home to find Joe waiting for him there. The fact that there were no leads as to where his son was was already driving him to distraction.

"Ben, there isn't anything to do!" Roy told him. "We've looked everywhere we can think of. We haven't found Joe and we have no clues."

"He's somewhere," Ben insisted. "What if he's hurt?"

"Ben, if he didn't leave of his own accord, you know he was taken. If he was injured, it would have been near the road between here and your ranch."

"He wonders off sometimes…Maybe by the lake or his mother's grave?" Ben pleaded knowing the answers before he asked. He looked to Hoss, a big man with a child's heart.

"Pa, we looked. I aint slept since Little Joe went missing. Pa…I don't know where else ta look." Ben had to concede his second son looked physically and mentally exhausted. Around the three men, life in town went on, but none of them understood how Ben Cartwright felt. Physically the father ached for his son. He remembered again the fire in San Francisco, how he had gone into shock rather than face that his boy was dead for while Joe believed his family was dead, Ben, Adam and Hoss thought they lost Joe in the fire. Joe had been only six then. Now he was fourteen, but the age made no difference. Ben shook himself. He couldn't give into his fears. He couldn't do that now. Hoss needed him.

"Joe," Ben mumbled in his worry.

"Pa?" Hoss asked. Ben shook his head.

"I'm sorry, Son. I was just thinking. Let's go home and we'll start a search for your brother. Roy, we won't be doing anything but looking for Joe. Could you put out a missing person's poster on Joe?"

"Already done, Ben. Hoss and I got them out this morning. We offered a reward of $500.00."

"If that doesn't work, we can increase the reward," Ben agreed. "If there are any men in town who want some work, I'm willing to pay to have them look for Joe."

"There might be a few men," Roy nodded. "I'll send them out to the ranch. I don't want anyone to take advantage of a tough situation." All Ben could do was nod his assent. He put his hand on Hoss' shoulder.

"Let's go home, Son."

"Pa…isn't there anything else we can do while we're here. Maybe Joe's in town."

"What makes you say that?" Ben demanded hopefully.

"Nothing," Hoss returned. "I just thought…oh heck. I just wish I knew how to find Joe. He's in trouble, Pa. He has to be or he'd be home."

"I know, Hoss, but we have to get home so we can figure out where to look for your brother, check out every place he would go."

"Pa, he didn't go anywhere willingly. I know he didn't." Hoss was on the verge of tears again. Ben didn't answer. He simply hugged his son as Hoss had hugged him, hoping to give the young man a sense of solace. Ben lifted his saddle bags over Buck and mounted while Hoss got up on Chubb.

"Roy, you hear anything, anything about Joe, please come and get us, day or night, you know that?"

"Of course, Ben. We all love Joe." Ben turned for home with Hoss at his side. It was a long fruitless ride home. Every minute Ben expected Joe to call his name or come running or laugh, anything to tell him he was alive. But there was nothing and the father and son arrived home alone with no Joe in sight or anywhere else for that matter to their sorrow and grief a grief that would live for eternity for them both…if Joe like his brother Adam never came home.

hr

The boy's captors rode for a period of time that seemed interminable to Joe. He dozed fitfully. They stopped in some kind of cabin for the night, leaving Joe lying against one side of the cabin tied down to something, he wasn't sure what. They left the gag in, but untied his legs, leaving his hands tied and his eyes covered. After giving him some water, they left him alone. Joe was becoming terrified. Where were they talking him? Through the long night, the boy prayed and hoped Hoss would find him. He knew it was too soon for his father to find him since Ben wasn't do home yet. When the morning came, the men didn't seem too concerned about time. They threw Joe up on the horse again and set off. This time they only rode for a few hours. Unable to see, Joe tried to reach the knots in the rope that tied his wrists, but was unsuccessful. He was soaked by rain, and freezing cold. The blanket was lifted off him, and the gag taken out. Arms lifted him out off the horse, throwing him over shoulders.

"Here we are, Kid, end of the road, at least for you," Pat hissed at him. Joe hit the ground with another hard thud. He tried to sit up even as he spoke.

"What? What…do you mean?" he demanded, unable to keep the fear out of his voice, but still defiant.

"Come on, Mike," Pat said without answering his captive. "Let's get this over and done with." Joe was completely helpless. He felt pure terror surge through him. He was going to die. These men were going to kill him just as they said they would.

"Help!" he screamed. "Someone help me, please. Pa! Pa!" He kicked and yelled as Mike told him to be quiet.

"Stupid Kid. Doesn't know it's hopeless. Aint no one out here going to hear his hollering. Too late for that. Ya can thank Adam Cartwright for cutting your life short." Joe's heart thumped, his mind rebelling against reality. He wanted to fight, to fight for his life, but there was nothing he could do. He was helpless. With the blindfold on he could see nothing, only smell the two men who needed a bath. With the rain pattering down on them, their voices were truly chilling to a boy who had known nothing but kindness and love in his life.

"Spose yer wondering why we brought ya all this way when we coulda killed ya back in Virginia City." Pat said as Joe coughed and sputtered trying to catch his breath. He didn't answer. Pat bent down, lifting his head by the hair. Joe bit his lips to keep from crying out. Pat spoke with venom and hatred.

"Adam killed my brother on this very spot. So I figured this would be a good place fer ya to meet yer maker, only I aint as merciful as yer brother. I aint a going to make your death as easy as my brother's. Adam Cartwright put a bullet in him."

"You're wrong," Joe cried out. "Adam's dead. He died four years ago. Whoever killed your brother wasn't Adam." Joe's head was released and he found his temple buried in the mud again.

"Liar. All Cartwrights must lie. Yer father must be real proud."

"I'm telling you the truth," Joe insisted.

"Pat, what if…well what if he's telling the truth. Then we kill him and find out it wasn't Adam Cartwright killed Ritchie."

"He killed him all right. Now let's git to it, Mike. It's wet and I'm hungry." Joe tried to move away using his legs for traction. He was almost to his feet when Pat landed a boot in his stomach. Collapsing, Joe gasped for air. He felt himself being tied to a tree with more ropes. His body was held up by the ropes, his head held high with a leather band that cut into his flesh. In the darkness each sound was enough to startle him. A fist hit Joe's head, a foot met his stomach and a rifle butt cracked his ribs. At first the boy bit his lip to keep from crying out until he drew blood. Then his screams filled the air and the men kept on with their beating. The last thing Joe heard was his own voice crying piteously for his father.

"Pa! Pa, help…" A final hit to his head caused the darkness to descend and the boy was finally free of his pain. His body was left where it had been tied, soaked in the rain, bruised and battered and dying alone in the wilderness for no reason other than pure hate.

Chapter 3

The road was still wet, the trail muddy, droplets of water dripping off the leaves of the trees he rode under. Nearing the river, the man pulled his horse to a stop, speaking gently to him. He loved horses. His pa always said a rancher took care of his horses, good care because you depended on them. Letting the horse lap at the water, he filled his canteen. Water tasted fresh, cool and fresh, Adam thought to himself as he drank his fill. Putting the cap on the canteen, he turned, catching sight of something…something grisly bound around a tree. Shivering, Adam blinked. He realized it was starting to rain yet again. Droplets blurred his vision. Pulling the horse's reins, he stumbled across the dirt and grass, coming to kneel in front of a body leaning against a tree. He could see now, rope held the body securely to the tree. There was blood on him, his head leaning forward and Adam was certain he was dead.

"Dear God," he breathed. Adam clenched his fists. He hated brutality and this man's condition was an outrage to him. Taking his bedroll, Adam placed it on the ground. Next he untied the rope that held the young man to the tree. Flinging it away, he caught the dead weight as it fell to the side. Dark hair covered the face. With deft respect, Adam picked up the man, placing him gently on the blanket. In death, as in life, all mankind deserved respect. The bloodied face came to view only for a moment before Adam covered him with the blanket. In a feeling of angst for the loss of one who seemed so slight and young, he placed him over his horse, then climbed up into the saddle.

"You're not alone any more, Kid. I'm sorry you had to die this way. I'm so sorry." Why…why was this affecting him so much, Adam wondered. Why was his chest on fire with anger and disgust? Riding through the rain, Adam found the going hard. It was cold almost icy to him. As the afternoon waned, the time passed by as if each minute were an hour, Adam wasn't sure if he could go on. Finally, to his relief, he found an abandoned cabin. To his dying day, he'd never know why he did what he did, but he was glad he did. As soon as he got off the horse, he lifted the burden of the dead boy taking him into the cabin, depositing him on the floor when he could not find a bed. Thankfully there was a lantern inside, along with a fireplace and table and chairs. Adam brought in his saddle bags which had some jerky and biscuits he'd bought in town. There was actually some wood in a lean to on the side of the cabin where he put his horse. Finally with a warm fire going, his water and food, Adam collapsed on the floor with exhaustion.

"Oh, Pa," he said quietly trying to nibble on the jerky. "I wish you were here. I wish I knew how you and Hoss and Joe were doing. I'm coming home, Pa. I'm coming home." Looking over to the body on the floor, Adam wondered if he should just bury the man, but he deserved a name, didn't he? Didn't he? Adam remembered how he had been left for dead, and knew his own family believed he was dead. The least he could do was take this boy to the next town and try to find out his identity. Lying down, the man fell asleep before he knew it, covered only by a wet blanket.

Dreaming, he was dreaming, dreaming of a time long ago when he was safe, when he lived with his father and brothers and nothing and no one could hurt him. Moving restlessly on the floor, Adam called out for his father, called out for him but did not hear a response. Suddenly it was as if his father was in the room. He could see him.

"Pa!" Adam cried sitting up. Ben appeared to be searching for something or someone, his chocolate colored eyes pleading for help as he called out.

"Joseph! Joseph, answer me. Joe! Where are you, Son?"

"Pa!" Adam repeated, but his father was gone. Shivering, Adam realized the fire was gone now, gone and so was his father. His own brown eyes wondered around the room, to rest on the blanketed corpse he had rescued from the harsh elements outside. With a sigh, the young man walked over, kneeling beside the blanketed form. With light coming through the windows, he could see better. Taking off one side of the blanket and then the other, he adjusted his eyes to take in the dark hair, the battered face he could not recognize. It was hard to tell how old the boy was, but it seemed as if he wasn't full-grown. So young to die, so young to be called home. Again Adam thought it was all such a waste. Hoping to find some identification, Adam sifted through the young man's pockets, ignoring the blood, and the battered body. There was nothing in the front pockets of the boy's pants, but when he turned over the still form, he found what he thought was a locket of some kind. The object was familiar, as if he knew it by heart without ever seeing it. His fingers enfolded it, felt it, knew it before he ever looked at it until it was in the palm of his hand, until he had returned the man to his back. Finally looking down, his heart pounding, his mind drowning in confusion, Adam admitted he knew exactly what he was looking at, exactly…Joe! Joseph!

"Please God," he mumbled. His chest constricted in an agony that was hounding him.

"Joe?" He put the locket in his own pocket, and turned to the…corpse.

"No!" Adam cried now. "No, no, Joe!" He hadn't recognized him, hadn't recognized his own brother! Pushing back the now dried curly hair, Adam found it difficult to see past the bruising, cuts and swelling. It had to be Joe. Sitting back on his knees, Adam knew that once again he had left his father down.

"Joe, Little Buddy. I never would have thought, never could have realized you would be here. How…how did this happen? Where's Pa and Hoss? How did you get this far from home? Joe…I can't…can't do this." Adam barely knew what he was thinking. He could think only of getting Joe home. His father…their father, Pa had to be crazy with fear and worry for Joe. He stared, couldn't help staring at the swollen face. Someone had beat his little brother to death. Adam's chest felt as if a horse's foot were crushing it. The pure anguish made him want to scream.

"Joe," he whispered. "I promised you I would come home and now…now you'll never know." Finally, screwing up his courage, the big brother's fingers traced the injuries to the boy's face. As his hand touched the face, Adam sustained a second shock, this one setting his soul on fire. Was the boy alive? His skin was rough, beaten, hurt, but…miracle of miracles it was warm!

"Joe?" he whispered. "Joe, can you hear me? Little Buddy?" In a rush of motion, Adam Cartwright moved. In minutes he stripped off Joe's damp clothes. Joe's arms, legs, back and chest were a mass of bruises and cuts. Adam ignored the urge to vomit at the beating Joe had sustained. Why? Why had they done it? Who had done this? Moving to his saddle bags, Adam took out a towel and night shirt. He used the blanket he had used during the night to cover the thin body. Joseph, Joseph, Joseph. Adam found a bucket in a corner of the room. Using it, he went outside to get some water. A water barrel was still there and he filled the bucket, then put the water in a metal pot to warm up over the fireplace. He was lucky to find what he needed as there was little enough in the cabin, no food, no other furniture and just a few cups in the cupboards.

"Joe, I have to get you home," Adam went on. "I'm just going to clean you up." He talked out loud but inside he was cursing the delay. If he'd known last night that this was Joe, that he was alive…he should have pressed on, should have got him home should have got him medical attention. Quickly he cleaned off the blood and the dirt. Joe's moan when he touched his bruised ribs told Adam that some had to be broken. He pulled the night shirt over his brother. As he laid the boy back down, Adam was shocked to see Joe's green eyes watching him.

"Joe?" he asked. Joe's eyes widened. He grabbed his throat. It was a sign Adam knew well. He turned his brother to the side so he could vomit. Rusty colored vomit spewed forth. Joe was bleeding inside. Using a cool cloth he wiped the boy's mouth.

"It's okay, Joe. I'm here. I'm going to getcha home."

"Adam," Joe gasped. "You are…alive."

"I know, Joe. I can only guess what you thought. I'm sorry. Now just rest. I'm going to get some water for you. Then I need to make a travois and get you home."

"No," Joe cried. "No…too far."

"Joe? What are you saying?"

"Hurt," Joe answered. "Sick."

"I know, Joe, but we can get you home. You know Pa. He's probably searching through the whole state to find you." Joe's face was swollen, his lip fat, and one eye almost swollen shut. Adam helped him drink some water.

"Pa…needs ya, Adam," Joe told him.

"Pa needs both of us," Adam insisted. "Joe you are not giving up on me, do you hear? I didn't come all this way to bury you!" Joe stared up at him until Adam was treated to one of those giggles that could only come from Joe, a giggle accompanied by a moan.

"Joe?"

"Bossy…so bossy," Joe giggled. "Oh, it hurts." Adam breathed a sigh of relief.

"You scared me, Brat," he swatted with his hand.

"Sorry." Joe apologized. "Adam…Adam…"

"It's okay, Buddy. I'll make a deal with you. I won't be too bossy if you promise not to die on me. I don't think I can explain that one to Pa." Joe seemed to consider. Nodding his head Joe agreed.

"Good man," Adam praised. "You have grown up so much, I didn't even recognize you, Joe."

"Not a kid anymore?"

"Well…still a kid but you're growing. Joe, I'm going to make a travois. Then we're going to get you home."

"Pa…Pa will be so glad," Joe told him. The green eyes were tender as Joe rested his gaze on his brother. Adam leaned down kissing the boy on the forehead.

"You rest. I'll be right back." Adam pulled the blanket over his brother, and then hurried to accomplish his tasks. When he came back he was worried sick to find that Joe had vomited again and was now unconscious. Something was wrong inside, Adam knew. After putting the blanket on the travois and then tying Joe onto the contraption, Adam pulled the second blanket over him. Thankfully it had finally stopped raining. By the time he was ready to leave the cabin the sun was halfway up the eastern sky telling Adam it was mid morning. The Ponderosa was at least several hours away. What if Joe died before he got him home?

"Please, God, please," he begged. "Don't let Little Joe die. He's just a boy. We love him so much."

The going was slow. Adam had to stop several time to check on Joe. To the older brother's sorrow Joe seemed to be in a great deal of pain. Joe's torment became a nightmare to his brother for every time they hit a rough spot, Joe cried out. Finally Joe called for Adam. Still at least a half day from the Ponderosa, Adam knelt beside the travois.

"Joe, come on Buddy, we're going to make it home."

"No, Adam…it hurts," Joe gasped. "Please…I can't go on. I can't. Oh God, I'm scared." Adam wanted nothing more to pull Joe in his arms and hug him, but he knew if he gave into his emotions, his little brother would breathe his last. Joe's face was as white as a sheet, his forehead perspiring with either pain or fever, Adam wasn't sure which.

"Joe, I don't know what to do. We have to keep going."

Joe's hand clasped Adam's shirt, the hazel eyes pleading with his brother.

"Adam…" The boy was barely conscious. "I can't…keep my promise. I can't…Tell Pa…I…"

"Joe! I don't want to hear talk like that. Joe! Oh my God." Joe projectile vomited a large amount of blood that covered Adam's shirt. When he was finished the boy collapsed holding his side and crying.

"Adam make…it stop," Joe pleaded the tears falling down his cheeks. Adam ripped off the blanket covering Joe. Lifting Joe's shirt he gapped at the huge bruise covering Joe's left side. Gently, palpating the abdomen, Joe's scream cut through the air as his brother's hands pressed down. To Adam's relief, the boy lost consciousness. Adam knew now what was wrong and what had to be done. He'd hoped to avoid this, but there was no other way. He brushed back the dark curls and touched the smooth face, still free of stubble in its youth.

"I love you, Joe. God forgive me for what I'm about to do. I love you, Joe." With a heavy heart and terrified Adam started to untie Joe from the travois…There was no help for it. There was only one thing to be done for Joe…and Adam was glad that at least he could spare his father and Hoss from committing the act that might very well kill his baby brother once and for all. He only hoped that if Joe died, his father would forgive him…or would he?

IV

Ben Cartwright was watching the sun set. It had been three days since he arrived home to find Joe missing. Just a few hours before he and Hoss had ridden into the yard, weary, exhausted from a fruitless search. Hoss was cleaning up. Ben couldn't believe his life had come to this. All his hard work, his dreams for his sons. Losing each of his wives had been like having his heart ripped out. Then the day the letter came from Boston telling them Adam was dead, buried in a mass grave with other victims of a cholera epidemic, his very soul felt as though it were shattered into a million pieces and now Joe. Where could that scamp be? Ben had to smile recalling the days when Joe and Adam scrapped together fighting as to who was in charge, and yet the boys loved each other dearly. In some ways it was Joe who suffered the most at the loss of his oldest brother. Ben still shivered when he felt Joe's small hand in his, the ten year old leaning against him in this very spot.

"I told him he wouldn't come home, Pa. Remember?" Joe said in his child voice. "I just knew he wouldn't, but I didn't want him to die!" Ben gathered the boy in his arms, comforting him as best he could. Watching the sun's rays set off to the west, Ben called on his son, not for the first time.

"Adam, Adam, Son. If you can hear me, help me. Help me find your brother," he pleaded. Adam's face appeared to Ben as he spoke, not the young man he had seen last, but an older man, his dark hair receding just a little from the high forehead, the boy wearing black, black shirt, pants, boots and hat. He was on a horse, a horse that pulled a travois behind him. Ben closed his eyes. Adam was helping him. He was! Opening the chocolate colored orbs again, Ben stumbled a little. His vision focused. Was it an apparition? Was it a ghost? Who was it?

"Adam?" Hoss' voice whispered behind Ben. "Pa? Pa, do ya see what I do?"

"It's a ghost, Hoss. I was talking to Adam. It's a ghost."

"Pa!" Adam's voice called out. The voice was real. "Pa! Come quick! Hoss. It's Joe." The sound of his youngest son's name moved Ben to move when his mind wouldn't accept the obvious. With Hoss rushing after him, Ben hurried to the travois where Little Joe lay unconscious. Joe's dark curls were dirty and matted, his face pale though his cheeks were bright with fever.

"Tarnation! Joe! Hey, Punkin." Joe's nonresponsiveness was deafening to the two men. The bruises on his face spoke for themselves. Ben stood as Adam took off the ropes that held Joe in place. Gently Adam lifted his brother into his arms.

"Hoss, can you send one of the men for the doctor. I had to do surgery. Joe needs the doc quick," Adam ordered. He clutched Joe to him while Ben and Hoss stared. "Pa?"

"Adam," Ben breathed. "I was just…" The words floated off in amazement. Ben came to life in the next few seconds uncertain how two miracles had just been given to him, but quickly determined to keep them both alive. He patted Hoss' back.

"Hoss, do as your brother says."

"Brother? Whooeee!" Hoss hollered. "I'll go myself, Pa, and fly all the way there. Adam's home! Whoooeee!" The big man enveloped his brothers in a hug then rushed off before Adam could say a word. Ben's eyes rested on his sons, Adam…Adam…Adam and Joe! It was like a dream.

"Son?"

"It's me, Pa, honest. Joe needs to rest and I guess I do too." Ben still could barely breathe. With slow purposeful movements he put his hands on Adam's shoulders, his eyes locked on his son's until he put his hand through Joe's curls.

"He's hurt bad, Pa. I had…I had to do surgery. He was bleeding inside. He hasn't wakened since and that was yesterday." Adam's voice clearly looked for direction. Ben nodded.

"Let's get him inside and cleaned up. We'll take care of both of you. You're home now. Hop Sing!" Ben allowed Adam to take his brother into the house. Adam didn't hesitate to hurry up the stairs to his brother's room. Ben pulled down the blankets and sheets. Hop Sing, having come out of the kitchen was momentarily stunned and now weeping a little at Adam's return spoke insistently.

"#3 Son velly dirty," he said. "I get hot water, soap. #1 Son dirty too. He take bath!" Adam chuckled looking down at his worn clothes.

"I guess I am that, Hop Sing. Soon as Little Joe is settled, I'll take a bath." Hop Sing said something in Chinese then hurried away. Ben was already stripping off Joe's tattered clothes.

"My God," the father breathed. His eyes met Adam's again. Adam, stoic and silent simply met his father's gaze.

"Who did this to him?"

"I don't know, Father. I found him like this. I thought…" Adam's voice quivered. "I thought he was dead when I first found him." Clearly Adam had difficulty telling his story. Ben put him instantly at ease.

"We'll discuss it later, Son. Let's get your brother comfortable. I wish he'd wake up."

"Me too," Adam sighed in agreement. Within a short time, Joe was bathed, his body showing even more of his bruises and the torment he had undergone.

"He looks almost as helpless as he did when we found him after the fire, Pa," Adam commented. "Remember how small and frail he was?"

"Yes, yes I do," Ben agreed. Again, Ben's hand brushed through Joe's dark curls. Those curls were so like his mother's. Ben could never forgot those months when he believed his youngest child had been killed in a fire. When the little boy was finally found he was unconscious in a physician's office, nearly starved to death. His life could have ended then. It hadn't and Adam's reference to that past event made Ben realize that if Joe had survived then, he would now. He had to. Ben could not lose his son now.

"Pa?" Adam's voice reached him slowly. Finally the older man looked up. Adam's hand was on his shoulder.

"I'll go take a bath and get cleaned up. Will you be all right with Joe?"

"Course I will, Son. Your clothes are all still in your room. You've grown so…"

"Don't worry, Pa. I've got clothes." Ben stood hugging Adam close.

"I never thought…Adam, I missed you. We grieved."

"I'm sorry, Pa."

"I know. I know. Go and get cleaned up and eat something. You're far too thin. Tell Hop Sing I could use some coffee."

"And some soup or something," Adam replied. "I missed you, Pa." Ben reluctantly let his son go. Turning back to Joe, he took the boy's hand in his. His words fell on deaf ears or so he felt.

"Your brother's home, Joe. Adam is home. Now it's time for you to come back to us. Do you hear me, Son? It's time to wake up." Holding the boy's hand in his, feeling his heart break, Ben waited in vain for Joe to wake.

hr

Dr. Martin's examination of Joe was thorough. When he turned to Ben and Hoss, and a weary Adam sitting on the bed, he gave a big sigh.

"What does that mean, Doc?" Hoss asked first. "Is the little fella gonna be all right?" Hoss' blue eyes in his broad face bespoke of his worry and fear for the boy. Dr. Martin tried to give the man a reassuring grin.

"Well, Hoss, thanks to Adam here, I think he is. You did pretty fine work, Adam, specially for an amateur."

"I just did what I observed the mine doctors do," Adam answered.

"Well you're a good observer. I'll have to put in some more stitches, but the incision is clean and there's no internal bleeding."

"Then why hasn't he wakened?" Adam demanded.

"Well that's the problem," Dr. Martin admitted. "How long do you think it was before you did surgery on Joe, the time between when he was injured and when you intervened?"

"I don't know. He was with me at least twenty-four hours. I'm not sure, another day?"

"That's a long time, Adam, for internal bleeding, specially from a spleen. It's possible Joe suffered brain damage and that's why he hasn't awakened."

"You mean…" Adam started as Hoss and Ben exchanged glances. "You mean he may never wake up? I waited too long?"

"Adam, you aren't a doctor. The fact you even knew what to do was a miracle. What I'm saying is we just have to wait and see. That's all we can do."

"He's right, Adam," Ben told his son, putting a strong hand on the man's shoulder. "If you hadn't found him, he'd be dead."

"Shucks, Adam, he wouldn't a had no chance without ya."

"But I should have done the surgery sooner."

"No Adam. You did the best you could," Dr. Martin told him. "If you take a guilt on this, it won't help Joe. He needs your strength now, not your guilt." Adam looked to his father and Hoss, and then back to Joe. The boy was still pale, his young face so bruised, his body still battered.

"We'll all be here for him," Ben told his old friend. "He'll wake up. You wait and see." Dr. Martin nodded providing the family with an encouraging smile.

"I'll come back tomorrow. Let's just take this one day at a time. We don't want to jump to conclusions. Adam, I can't say how glad I am to see you home. You have no idea how you were missed." Adam shook Dr. Martin's hand. If he'd been Joe or Hoss, the doctor probably would have hugged him, but Adam was a law unto himself, far more conservative than his brothers or father. The doctor left the house with Hoss seeing him out. Adam and Ben stayed by Joe's side.

"Joe!" Adam called sitting on the double bed. "Joe, we're home. Remember you made a deal with me? I promised you I wouldn't be bossy if you didn't die. I haven't told you what to do, but I'm asking Buddy. I'm asking you not to leave us. I didn't come home for that." Ben's hand on Adam's back made the young man look up. Identical chocolate colored eyes locked on each other. As Hoss stepped into the doorway, his big heart ached and rejoiced at the same time as father and oldest son hugged.

"Pa, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

"Don't be sorry, Son. You got Joe home. You got yourself home."

"Yeah, Big Brother. Where ya been? How come ya didn't come home before now?" Hoss walked into the room. He stood at the end of the bed. Adam joined him.

"Hoss, I know you have a lot of questions. Maybe they could wait until Joe's a little better and I've gotten some rest." At that, Adam felt his knees give out. Hoss moved quickly catching his brother in his arms. Ben moved just as quick, his hand touching Adam's forehead, checking him over just a bit.

"He's exhausted," the father decided. "Why don't you take him to bed, Son? Make sure he's warm. I'll stay with Joe."

"Think I'll be sitting with Big Brother for a spell," Hoss nodded. "If he aint the purtiest thing I ever seen." Ben almost laughed and might have if it weren't for his gnawing worry for Little Joe. He watched till Hoss disappeared with Adam, then turned back to Joe. As Adam had, he sat down on Joe's bed. Taking the thin hand in his, the father counted his blessings…and prayed for one more in silence.

Chapter 4

Adam woke the next morning, the sun peaking in his window telling him he had slept all night long. For a second, the dark haired man wondered where he was until he saw his own books lining shelves over his desk, and inhaled the sweet scent of pine that wafted in through his open window. Home. He was home after eight years. It couldn't be true. Could it? It was. It was. In a flash, Adam remembered Joe. He got up, performing a morning ritual that was routine for him. In minutes he had dressed in his dark clothes and hurried down the hall to Joe's room where he found his father sitting in a chair, his gray haired head resting on the bed where Joe lay motionless except for his chest which rose and fell quietly. Adam stepped into the room, his heart heavy. As his footsteps fell, eyes darted open. Adam proceeded to the bed.

"Joe," he whispered so as not to wake his father. "Joe!"

"Hey," Joe whispered back, his eyes flickering with fatigue. "What…what happened?" Adam brushed back the curly dark hair in the same manner his father would. Joe grinned at him with just a hint of mischief in his eyes.

"You came home, Joe. You kept your promise and came home."

"Pa?" Joe's gaze shifted from Adam to his father. Moving his hand, Joe touched Ben's shoulder. "Pa!" As if in slow motion, Ben Cartwright lifted his head. Adam wondered if the older man thought he was hearing a ghost. Certainly his face, drawn, and white with his fatigue showed his surprise at hearing Joe's voice.

"Pa, Joe's awake." Ben moved in a flash, sitting on Joe's bed, taking his hand in his.

"Joseph? Son?"

"Pa…I made it. I made it home thanks ta Adam."

"You sure did. Your brother saved your life."

"Thought I was dead for sure," Joe mumbled. "And Adam only bossed me a little. Adam…"

"I'm here, Buddy. What can I do for you?"

"Don't…go away again," Joe pleaded. Adam felt his heart constrict at the desperate sound of Joe's voice. "I thought…we all thought you were dead and I thought it was my fault."

"Joseph!" Ben cried in surprise. "Oh, Son."

Joe swallowed hard. Adam could tell it was hard for the boy to admit how he felt. It was funny. The boy was becoming a man, Adam could see. The little boy who used to smother him with hugs and slobbery kisses was now far more hesitant about admitting to his emotions. Adam wasn't sure if that was a good or bad thing.

"Joe, it's okay to talk about," Adam encouraged. Sitting in the chair Adam's heart went out to Joe who moved a little moaning with his discomfort.

"Joe!" Ben cried. "Adam get me a glass of water please." Adam moved as his father had in quick steps. After pouring a glass from the pitcher on Joe's dresser, he hurried back to the bed. "Help me get him to drink. Paul left some powders here for the pain." Ben poured the powders from the packet in the drawer of the nightstand. Together they lifted the boy with a gentleness that was inspirational. Still Joe clutched his stomach and cried out.

"Pa! It hurts. My ribs too."

"You took quite a beating, Joe. Come on and drink this. It'll help."

"No Pa," Joe answered. "It'll taste bad."

"It will only take a second and then we'll get you some fresh water, Joseph. Or do you want to suffer?" Joe frowned. With Adam supporting his back and his father holding his head, he drank the medicine down. Adam moved in the bed so Joe could lean against him while Ben got some fresh water. Joe was holding his breath Adam realized and it scared him.

"Breathe Joe!" Adam ordered. "Joe!" Joe finally managed to gasp some air, relaxing against his brother.

"Hurts so bad," Hoss came into the room just as Joe finished drinking the water. Adam started to get up.

"Adam, please don't. I feel better with you here," Joe protested. The boy was light. Adam barely felt his brother's weight against his strong lean frame. Ben put the pillows behind Adam and helped both the boys get comfortable. Hoss stood at the end of the bed.

"Aint that a sight fer sore eyes, Pa?" he asked. "Adam and Joe are home!"

"They sure are, Son."

"Joe?" Adam encouraged again. "Joe, you have to take deeper breaths. You're barely breathing." Ben's concern and Hoss' were evident as they hovered over the two brothers. Joe's eyes were closed. Adam slapped Joe's wrist and the hazel orbs shot open wide.

"Hey!" he cried. "What'd ya do that for?"

"I told you to breathe deeper. If you don't you'll break my promise to me."

"You already broke your's," Joe grumbled. Hoss and Ben exchanged confused looks until went on. "Already bossing me around." Adam's laughter was music to the men's ears and apparently Joe's too as he grinned at his father and Hoss.

"That's what big brothers are for, Buddy. Besides, we're home now. What else am I going to do?"

"As long as you don't go no where, don't care," Joe admitted. "Pa, don't let him go away." Ben's hand on Joe's leg was strong and firm. Joe's eyes were closing in sleep as Ben spoke, his dark brown eyes gazing fondly at Adam.

"I promise, Joe. Adam will be here when you wake up or else."

"I'll dump him in the trough if he tries to leave," Hoss put in. Adam shot Hoss a look that said, I dare you. Hoss grinned. "Welcome home, Big Brother." Welcome home indeed, Adam thought until he relaxed on the bed with Joe and realized that there was no place in the world like home and for now he hoped he'd never have to leave again, never again.

hr

"Joseph, where do you think you are going?" Ben Cartwright hollered at his errant son three weeks later. Joe froze near the front door of the house and looked over at the desk where his father was working on the endless numbers in his accounting books.

"Outside?" the boy hazarded.

"And just who gave you permission to leave this house?" Ben thundered. Joe cringed. Ben softened his voice at Joe's reaction. "Joseph?"

"Pa, I feel fine. If I don't get out of the house I'm gonna go crazy. Please!" Joe's pleading went straight to Ben's heart. In the first few weeks after Joe's ordeal, he hadn't protested Dr. Martin's ministrations or Ben's molly coddling too much. His one wish was to make sure his family was close by. The boy couldn't stand to be alone, even through the night when Adam usually slept next to him. Joe hated to not know where Adam was. In the third week, the boy grew restless, hating to stay in bed, more like his normal self. Now he was out right rebelling. Ben could hardly deny his son.

"All right, Joseph. You may sit on the porch but that's it, until the doctor clears you to be walking around the yard and barn."

"Thanks, Pa!" Joe was out the door so fast it was as if he'd vanished. Well, he was fourteen and Joe Cartwright was always ready to be on the go. Ben went to the door and opened it, unable to resist checking on Joe. Joe was doing just about what his father said, only he was already using his knife and whittling away on a piece of wood. Ben could figure Joe kept the knife in his room. As for wood, well that was easy enough to get just from the wood pile ten feet from the door near the kitchen entrance of the house. It was a good way to distract the boy. Ben went back to his work. Adam and Hoss were out checking fences and would be back by supper time. Since Joe was better, tonight Ben determined he was going to ask Adam the questions that were gnawing at him, questions that had had to wait until Joe was ready to hear the story. Adam said he only wanted to tell the story once, and Ben had acquiesced though Hoss often pestered his brother. Adam good naturedly put him off. Something had changed about his dark son. Ben wondered what had brought about the change in his son who although always sturdy and dependable in the past had been a bit moody before he left for college, and now seemed far more at peace with himself. What had caused the change he wondered as he returned to work and quickly lost him self in frustrating numbers.

Hoss and Adam rode comfortably home at the end of the day. Arriving at the barn, they saw Joe sitting in a chair outside. The boy waved to them, but wisely didn't come to greet them, Adam thought.

"Wonder how Pa let him out," Hoss mused dismounting Chubb.

"I don't know, but it's good thing or that boy was going to jump out the window next," Adam joked. Following Hoss into the barn with Sport whom he had enjoyed getting to know again, Adam's demeanor was calm and collected. The brothers worked efficiently to settle their horses and take care of the rest of the livestock for the night.

"Adam, didja ever think who hurt Joe?" Hoss asked out of the blue as they stepped out of the barn. Adam shook his head.

"I haven't a clue, Hoss. Joe hasn't spoken of the beating and I don't have the heart to ask him."

"Me neither. Aint no one should suffer like he did."

"I thought he was dead when I found him, Hoss," Adam confessed coming to a stop half way to the house.

"What?" Hoss wondered.

"Never mind. I can tell you later. But it's a miracle he's sitting there on that porch."

"Thanks to you, Big Brother," Hoss assured him slapping Adam on the back with a big paw. Adam didn't really feel like taking credit for Joe's recovery. Dr. Martin had finished what he started. And Joe wouldn't have come so close to death if Adam accepted and did what needed to be done right away or if he'd actually realized Joe was alive. Hoss' teasing of their youngest brother brought a smile to Adam's face. It was over now, he told himself. Joe was getting better. Whoever hurt him was long gone…but Adam knew that was just an excuse. Eventually they'd have to find out who hurt Joe. They couldn't get away with what they'd done. They couldn't.

Dinner was a sumptuous meal. For the first time Joe sat at the table with the family. Adam's appetite wasn't as good it usually was. He kept looking around the table, as if memorizing his father and brothers. How could he have stayed away so long he wondered to himself while eating Hop Sing's fried chicken, mashed potatoes, peas, biscuits, and baked apples? He was deep in his thoughts when Joe's unique laugh reached him.

"Adam's so far away, ya'd think he was back in Boston," Hoss was saying. "Hey, Big Brother."

"I heard you, Hoss. Sorry, Pa, Joe."

"Don't matter, Adam," Joe answered.

"Adam, are you just about finished?" Ben asked. Adam's nod was his answer.

"Good. While Hop Sing brings our coffee, I wanted to ask you some questions, if you don't mind answering them." Adam knew what was coming. He'd put off his story as long as he could.

"You want to know about what happened to me after the cholera epidemic?" he guessed.

"Well that would be a start. You don't have to, Son. It's just your brothers and I…well…"

"It was hard, Adam. Onliest time I ever missed someone that bad was when Joe's mama died or when we thought we lost Joe in that danged fire." Adam's brown orbs drifted to his youngest brother.

"Joe? I think you're the one I owe the biggest apology to."

"Me? Why?" Joe wondered in amazement. His dark curly hair needed to be cut and he still sported a few fading bruises on his handsome face, but Adam saw his little brother's hazel eyes were alert and pleased that Adam was thinking of him. Adam always could read Joe like a book but then he could do the same with Hoss. After all he'd known them since they were born and helped raise them. He loved his brothers with a fierce devotion that he knew now came from his father. He sighed admitting to failures that he had only recently accepted before coming home. Joe sat back in his chair. Ben sipped on the coffee Hop Sing poured in his cup. Hoss relaxed in his chair and Hop Sing hung near the kitchen door listening.

"Because you begged me not to go to Boston. You told me I wouldn't come back. Six years old and you were terrified I wouldn't come home, even though I promised I would."

"Reckon I thought ya would disappear like my ma," Joe admitted. "Then when we got word ya died, I thought it was my fault, that my thinking you were going to die, killed ya."

"Joseph!" Ben exclaimed.

"It's okay, Pa. I had lots of time to think while I was sick, and Adam, he talked to me a little. I know now I was kind of silly."

"Amen," Hoss agreed. "Silliest thing I ever heard."

"Not to a ten-year old," Joe replied. Hoss seemed to think a minute and then nodded.

"Spose I cain't argue with that," the biggest Cartwright admitted.

"Well, anyway, it's not a terribly long story. I remember when the cholera first broke out in Boston. At the college we all banded together to nurse those who got sick first. When I came down with it, the school was overwhelmed. There were more folks sick than not. I got real sick, Pa. Never felt like that before or since. I don't know about the mix-up that happened, how you got notice that I was dead. Somewhere along the line there apparently wasn't anyone else to take care of us, cause they moved us all to a church where hundreds of cholera victims were being taken care of. I was there for a long time. Problem is, when I woke up, I couldn't remember my name."

"But surely someone could identify you," Ben objected.

"It was chaotic," Adam explained. "The epidemic killed thousands. I had no identification on me. When I was strong enough, I left Boston with just the shirt on my back and a few dollars one of the church members gave me."

"My God," Hoss breathed.

"I ended up working my way west. Pa, if I'd remembered, it was quite a bit like you and me coming west all those years ago only I didn't have a kid with me. Made it a lot more lonely," Adam chuckled.

"There was many a time when I wanted to give up, Adam," Ben concurred. "You were always the best reason for me to keep on going."

"I can imagine. Finally I ended up in the mining camps. One of the docs took me under his wing. We worked together helping the miners and their families through sickness and injury and death. It wasn't pretty, but it was work and satisfying at that. I finally made up my mind I wouldn't mind being a doctor. I was headed east to maybe go to school when I got shot."

"You what?" Ben thundered as loudly as he had that afternoon when Joe was sneaking out of the house.

"Pa, calm down," Adam pleaded. "I'm fine."

"But ya just said ya was shot," Hoss reminded him.

"Yeah, actually pretty close to where I found Joe. I never even saw the kid. He just shot me from the back." Joe's easy countenance stiffened as he leaned forward over the table looking at Adam at the foot of the table.

"What'd ya do, Adam?" he asked. Somehow, Adam thought there was more to the question than simple curiosity. Joe's face was a little pale and beads of sweat had broken out on his forehead. Adam decided to continue.

"The bullet hit me more in the side and exited out the front, but the force of it pushed me down. I played dead, figuring somehow this had to be a robbery. I didn't want to die at that point. The man kicked me in the side, and still I didn't move though my hand was slowly going for my gun. When he pushed me over I shot him."

"Didja kill him, Adam?" Joe asked. Now Adam stiffened.

"Course I did, Joe. It was him or me." Joe slumped back in chair. Adam and Ben exchanged glances.

"Little Buddy?" Adam asked. "What's wrong."

"Nothing, Adam. Just go on. Honest." Joe answered. The boy wasn't sulking, but he was definitely upset. Adam decided to finish the story.

"Not much more to tell," he told the family. "It was the shock of the shooting that brought back my memory. I managed to get back to the last town I'd come through a few hours from where I was hurt. I'd worked in the town for a few months to earn some money to go east so a lot of people knew me. They got me to the doc's. I couldn't tell him who I shot, but it was reported to the sheriff as self defense. There were two brothers who came to the doc's looking for me. Said I murdered the boy, but the doc sent them away telling them I'd been shot by their brother and I'd just defended myself." Adam took a breath. "Never heard from them again. Soon as I was well I started towards home and that's when I found Joe."

"I heard from them," Joe blurted.

"Joseph?" Ben asked. "Sit up, Joseph." Joe didn't sit up. He stood. He leaned against the chair, looking from his father to Adam and Hoss and back again.

"Pa, those were the men that kidnapped me. They said Adam killed their brother so they were going to kill me."

Adam's face turned white.

"Adam, take it easy," Ben ordered coming to his son's side. Adam stood, so angry, his chair fell over backwards. Joe tried to reassure his brother.

"Adam it aint your fault. I tole them you wouldn't kill anyone. They weren't listening. It wasn't your fault. It was their's."

"We have to find them," Adam hissed. "They have to pay for what they did to Joe."

"Joe, did you get a good look at them?" Ben asked his son.

"I don't remember much, Pa."

"I know their names," Adam told them. "I'll find them."

"No!" Joe cried. "No, you can't leave not again."

"Joe, we have to find them, keep them from doing to someone else what they did to you."

"I don't care about what they did to me. I care about you!" Joe insisted. Ben's hand was on Adam's shoulder. Adam saw then that Joe wasn't completely recovered from his ordeal. More importantly he wasn't ready for Adam to leave him again. Adam walked around the table. Joe was standing, trembling from head to foot in his own distress. Adam hugged the boy.

"Okay, Joe. I won't go looking for them yet, but we'll let the sheriff know their names, get a wanted poster out. How about that?"

"Long as you don't go nowhere, not yet, Adam, please," Joe pleaded. Adam saw the very real fear in Joe's eyes. His little brother was so seldom afraid as a child. This fear of Joe's was new.

"I promise Joe. I won't go anywhere. I promise. Not for a long time." Joe's hug was suddenly as tight as Adam's. Hoss and Ben watched the boys'. Adam was home. His choices originally led him to Boston then back to the country he knew best. The consequences of his actions were still pulling at a boy's heart. Joe had almost died simply because Adam defended himself. What would happen in the future for the Cartwright's now that Adam was home? Would the men who attacked Joe ever be caught or would Joe convince his brother to leave those men out there so that no one, no one could ever hurt his beloved brother again. Those answers couldn't be answered that night, nor in the nights to come. All that mattered at that point was that the Cartwright's were whole again…The rest of the questions would have to wait to be answered in the future that was just over the horizon for Ben Cartwright and his sons.


End file.
